Karma
by kingshammer
Summary: What goes around comes around. Tag to S3E5 "Switch". Please, R&R. Thanks! Oh, oh, oh! Please, beware: I'm rating this T because I don't think it warrants M, but there is some language. Tiva, McAbby.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey again. I know I've got another story in the works, but this one just flowed so easily, I couldn't help it. This story is a tag to the episode Switch in season 3. It takes place in the summer between season 3 and 4.

I hope you enjoy it. As always, all reviews are welcome, good or bad.

Disclaimer: Alas, I still don't own NCIS. Funny who that works...

* * *

NCIS Forensic Scientist Abby Scuito was humming a tune as she walked into her lab. She went into her office to hang up her coat, shaking it a little. It was early spring and it was raining as though precipitation was going out of style. Still humming to herself Abby reentered her lab. It was early; six AM. Abby was not usually at work that early, but it was the third Monday of the month and as per regulation, Abby was there early to run diagnostics on her equipment. After a series button pushing and knob turning, a gentle hum filled the air. Satisfied that all of her equipment was on and running, she proceeded to turn on her monitors and computers.

A short second later, Gibbs' face sprung up on every image supporting screen in her lab. Abby leaned back in her chair, allowing a sad smile to grace her features. The pictures of Gibbs had gone up two days after he'd walked out of NCIS, when not seeing him was driving her insane. The first week had been the hardest. She was angry at him for walking out, for quitting. But her anger was replaced by sadness. She missed the man that she'd come to regard as a father.

At first, Abby didn't hear the soft knock on her doorway. It was the voice that called her name that broke her out of her reverie.

"Uh, Ms. Scuito?" came a voice from the doorway. Abby jumped, turning in her seat.

"Can I help?" she asked, unsure of the man in the doorway. The man took that as an invitation to step in, however, it was only one step. He was young, Small and slight. His shoulders were rounded and his dark eyes shifted constantly, avoiding Abby's face but also never straying to far from the floor. He held a folder in his right hand and fidgeted with his pant leg with his left.

"I-I-I am John Straight. Well, um, Special Agent John Straight. A-A-Actually, heh, Probationary Agent John Straight." he said.

"Well, John Straight, I'm Abby Scuito. How can I help you?" asked Abby. She was slightly impatient; she needed to run diagnostics on her "babies" before the work day started so that they'd be ready to go.

"Well, I'm working with Agent Sommers and we're working a case. He wants to but out a BOLO today and well, we have a fairly good description of the guy- I mean the dude practically ran into me- sorry, not dude, perpetrator. Anyway, we know what he looks like, but as far as what he's driving, all we have is a tread mark. Agent Sommers wanted me to check in with you to see if you couldn't find the make and model of the vehicle. He said soon as possible, I-I-I came here extra early, and well here you are." he said hurriedly, his voice dropping to a mummer at the end of his monologue.

Abby shook her head for a moment, overwhelmed with the speed at which he talked. She knew she talked fast, but this guy was a record breaker.

Deciding to pity the Probie, she waved him over. He gave her a huge smile and handed her the folder.

"Let's see what we got here," she said, offering him a wide smile of her own.

In hindsight, Abby would wonder how he knew she'd be at work so early. In hindsight, she would have wondered why he was so nervous. In hindsight, she would have wondered why he had no badge, no gun and no key. However, as the thick arm wrapped around her throat and the chloroform drenched rag shoved into her face before she could scream, hindsight would have to wait until later.

_Thoop_


	2. Chapter 2

"Good Morning, Michelle." greeted Ziva with a smile as she walked into the bull pen. Agent Lee was the only one their. Ziva turned to deposit her things behind her desk.

"Good Morning, Officer David," responded the young woman. Feeling liberty as her her back was turned to the other agent, Ziva clenched her teeth and let her eyes widen in frustration. Though, when she turned around again, and easy smile was on her face.

"Please, Michelle, I told you. Call me Ziva. We are in the office. Titles are unneeded here." she responded.

"Oh, I disagree, _Mossad Liaison Officer _Ziva David. It its a great show of decorum to address each other by our full titles, as _Probationary Special Agent _Michelle Lee does. I know it makes _Senior Field Agent _Timothy McGee feel good about himself." McGee having walked in behind Tony, rolled his eyes, ignoring his team leader. Agent Lee sunk a little lower in her seat. Ziva, remember what it was like to be the newby with an eccentric Anthony DiNozzo in the midst was like, took up arms for the young agent.

"Brighten up Tony. Michelle is just adjusting." she said.

"First of all, I think you mean lighten up. Second of all, it's Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo to you." Ziva rolled her eyes. She and McGee had been getting a substantial amount of practice. Ignoring Tony and the stack of paperwork at her elbow, Ziva proceeded to check her email. The first message in her inbox caught her attention. The send was anonymous and the subject read _Jigsaw Puzzle. _ She opened it, the curiosity getting the best of her. A video file was attached to the email. She downloaded it. As she watched her eyes widened in disbelief and fear.

"Tony, you need to come look at this." she called out. Tony heard the worry in his partner's voice and rushed over.

"What's up?" he asked. Rather than answer, Ziva played the thirty second video again. Tony swore out loud. It showed Abby's lab, the perspective being as it would if looking down from her giant monitors. Abby was at her computer desk, a man next to her. She seemed to be talking and he kept his head down, apparently listening. Ziva read her lips silently. Then, from the hallway, a huge man came in, dressed in black from head to toe. He wrapped a huge arm around Abby's neck and shoved a rag into her face. Abby went limp in his arms. The big man tossed her over his shoulder. The other man looked up and with an evil grin signed something into the camera.

"It means "you're next"", whispered Ziva. Tony's head snapped up.

"Ziva, stay put. Agent Lee, with me. Show McGee the video. McGee, don't let her out of your sight." ordered Tony. He rushed behind his desk, grabbing his gun. Agent Lee did the same thing, though with more confusion on her features. Tony and Lee took off towards the elevators.

McGee, also confused, came to watch the video.

"My God," he said, horror in his voice as he watched Abby go unconscious. Ziva, having watched the video twice now didn't focus on Abby, but the background. At the doorway, a third man placed a small box to the side behind a machine. He then gently pulled his hand away, attaching whatever was in it to the other side of the door way. Suddenly, Ziva's mind clicked. Swearing in Hebrew, she sprung from her chair running for the stairs.

"Hey!, Ziva what are you doing?" called McGee as he ran after her. Ziva ignored him, jumping and running down the stairs, her mind racing. _Please, let me beat the elevator and do not let me break an ankle._

The elevator was silent as Tony and Lee rode down. Tony was tapping his foot impatiently as the elevator traveled down the six floors it needed to get down to Abby's lab. Lee could tell that it was one of those moments when it was in her best interest to keep quiet.

Finally, the familiar "ding" filled the compartment. Tony was out as soon as the doors opened, rushing to Abby's door. When he was about two steps away, however, a solid force rammed into his right side pushing him to the ground. He fell hard, but despite this he rolled, trapping his attacker under him; only to discover that his attacker was Ziva.

"Ziva? What the hell are you doing?" he asked, confused and angry. Before she could answer, a voice resounded from the stairwell.

"Ziva, what is going on?" bellowed McGee, bursting out of the stairwell. He was panting furiously. He paused and squinted his eyes, quirking an eyebrow at Tony and Ziva's position.

"Well, if Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo would Get Off of me, I would love to explain." she ground out. Finally, Tony realized the reason for McGee's look and scrambled to his feet, offering a hand to Ziva. She took it, shooting him daggers with her eyes. All the while, Agent Lee looked on, McGee red in the face, Tony looking uncomfortable and Ziva fuming, all the while wondering what she had done to deserve being stuck on this team.

Ziva went to the doorway and squatted down. After a moment she found what she was looking for: a thin silver wire, barely visible in the morning sunlight, running across the base of the doorway. She smiled a humorless smile and indicated that Tony should look. When he saw what she was indicating, his face paled. He looked at Ziva, allowing fear to creep in his eyes, just for a moment. She met his gaze.

"We are dealing with professionals."

_Thoop_

A/N: Please let me know if you like it.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Howdy folks. I hope you're doing well on this lovely Tuesday evening. Here's chapter three. Feel free to let me know what you think!

Thanks!

"Time to wake up Abby. There we go." Still groggy, Abby blinked her eyes opened. After a moment, the reality of her situation kicked in and adrenaline coursed through her system. She gave a violent pull, struggling against her bonds. In the back of her mind, it registered that she was bound to a chair by hand cuffs and rope around her ankles. Not something she was likely to get out of. Still, she pulled, unable to quell the surge of raw instinct.

"I wouldn't struggle if I were you. It'll only tire you out and won't help." Abby forced herself to calm down, shaking her head to clear her vision. She was in a small room. There was a window, though it was boarded up and had bars across them. The room itself seemed to be used for storage. There were crates arbitrarily strewn around and stacked upon each other.

"What...do you want...with me?" asked Abby, her breathing labored. She felt unconsciousness creeping up on her again.

"Abby, what we want is to pick your brain. But I can see that will have to wait until later. Who knows, maybe the next time you wake up you'll have company. But maybe not. I suppose that will be up to you." Abby wanted to respond, but found she couldn't and without another word, her head drooped forward again the darkness enveloping her vision.

_Thoop_

"Director, I do not need a security detail! I can take of myself." responded Ziva, adamant. Director Shepard had come down to Abby's lad. She'd been filled in on the situation and had ordered a lock down on the Navy Yard until all facilities could be searched.

"Ziva, you are a target. The video was sent to_ you_. The man signed that message to _you_. I will not allow _you_ to remain alone until this situation is resolved. And that is non negotiable." Ziva let out a sigh of furious frustration.

"But Director, you know that there are few in this building who could better protect me than me!" responded the angry Israeli.

"I know Ziva. That's why Agent DiNozzo," Jenny raised her voice to catch the other agent's attention, "is not to let you out of his sight. You will be in his protective custody and that is the best you'll get in your favor. I want all of you to work this case, but if you don't want me to lock you away in an interrogation room until we find Abby, then you will live with this arrangement. Do I make myself clear Officer David?" Ziva knew that arguing was useless. Properly cowed, but still fuming, Ziva nodded her ascent.

"Shall we?" asked Jenny, a smile on her face indicating to Abby's lab. Ziva nodded and followed her into the room. Tony had already swept for prints and come up empty for any but Abby's. McGee checked the computer to see what Abby was looking up. It turned out that she was running tread marks that belonged to a vehicle that had been impounded a year ago by Metro PD. It hadn't seen the open roads in all that time. Lee was photographing the crime scene.

"Tony, if you don't need McGee, I have a project for him regarding your case." said Jenny. Tony looked uncertain. He knew that it was a big case, possibly their biggest since Gibbs bomb blast, but Tony wanted to, no needed to, run the investigation.

"I have our head of base security in the Cyber unit. All the videos for all of the security cameras for the last three months are ready for Agent McGee's review, if you can spare him." Before Tony agreed, he used his eyes to indicate that he wanted a private word. Jenny obliged, leading the way to the hallway.

"Yes, Special Agent DiNozzo?" Tony rubbed the back of his head.

"Listen Director, I know that this is your home court and for this to happen here I'm sure it sucks. But you're going to allow me run this investigation, right? I trust your judgment, but I won't be micro-managed. I need to know where we stand." said DiNozzo, trying to inflect as much confidence in his voice as possible. Jenny fixed him with a serious expression.

"This investigation is yours, Tony. For the record, _I _trust your judgement." Tony nodded slowly.

"McGee, go with the Director." he called. With a regular DiNozzo smile, he nodded at the director and reentered the crime scene. McGee nodded at Tony and disappeared with the Director into the elevator.

"David, let's take a look at that bomb." he said. Ziva nodded, carefully lifting the bomb of the ground and onto Abby's counter. She'd already disarmed the bomb, but was careful nonetheless.

"Can you tell me what it is?" asked DiNozzo, impatient for answers.

"I will need to dissect it. Carefully. I do not know what kind of bomb it is, but I do know that it will not explode." she responded, ignoring Tony's tone.

"Then get to it. If you know how to work anything in here, use it if you need it. Agent Lee, get something to write on. I've got questions and you're going to write them down." Lee sprung into action, desperately looking for a note pad. Tony signed and directed her to Abby's office.

"Alright write these questions down. Why was Abby in here at six in the morning? Who is the little man that knows sign language? Does Agent Sommer's know who he is? How did he gain access to the NCIS building? Does Abby have enemies? Where are her would be enemies? Who are the other two guys? Why would Ziva be sent the video? Which of Ziva's potentially numerous enemies would do this? Hmm, okay, what was the first question on the list?" asked Tony, pacing the room.

"Why was Abby here so early?" responded Lee quickly. If she was perplexed at Tony's need to have his question restated, she kept it to herself.

"Right." Tony pulled out his phone and dialed the Director's office. "Hi, Cynthia, this is Agent DiNozzo. Is the Madame Director around? Yes that would be great. Hi Director. I know it's been too long. Tell me, why was Abby here so early? Diagnostics every third Monday. Thank you, that's all. Please, tell McGee to work as fast a possible. Thank you." finished Tony with false sweetness in his voice. He wasn't mad, just anxious, impatient.

"Lee, Abby comes in early every third Monday of the month to run diagnostics on her machines. Call security. Tell them I want Special Agent Sommers in interrogation. I'd like a word with him." Agent Lee did as she was asked and Tony went into see what progress Ziva had made. What he found worried him. Her face was pale and worried. She was seated in Abby's seat looking at the counter with the various bomb pieces scattered about, one arm crossed, the other with its elbow resting on the other arm, her hand other her chin.

"Uh, Ziva? What's up?" asked Tony. Ziva pointed with the hand under her chin to the contents on the counter.

"I have seen this before. Several times, but only once recently." she replied. She was still contemplating the bomb and it's connection to Abby's kidnapping.

"A Mossad mission?" asked Tony.

"No, more recent. An NCIS case. I am trying to remember which."

"We haven't done anything with any explosives except with, you know, Gibbs' a couple weeks ago." Suddenly the words _Jiigsaw Puzzle _popped into her mind. That realization did not bode well. Their enemy was unknown and obviously very dangerous.

"Tony, this is not good. Do remember that case a couple of months ago with the Petty Officer who cheated on his wife and she killed him? His name was something like Barry Larry something...Jerry! Jerry Smith. Remember the silver case McGee managed to hold onto when the messenger tased him? The bomb squad blew the case apart by accident."

"Yeah, I remember. The one with the monkey. The messenger guy was Kirby or something. What does this have to do with that?" asked Tony still not seeing the connection.

"That case had an epoxy strip on it. It was wired similar to this one, though this would have done greater damage. That case was designed to implode. This was designed to explode out, causing more damage. Tony I think the people who took Abby were the ones who wanted the box transported. And they're coming after me because... because I helped Abby put it back together. I told her I was good at jigsaw puzzles."

"What was inside?" asked Tony, curious about this piece of information he was never privy to.

"That is the problem. We could not find out. Finally, Gibbs let it drop and it was handed over to ATF. Tony, I do not know anything. I do not know anything."

_Thoop_


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Enjoy!

"Agent Sommers, good morning." greeted DiNozzo as he walked into interrogation. The other agent did not share his sentiment.

"Good? I can tell you DiNozzo, this morning has been anything but good. First, My car doesn't start. Then I spill my coffee all over my pants. And now? I walk into NCIS, like I have for the past ten years, and security is waiting for me. They manhandle me like I'm some criminal and haul my ass down to interrogation. And you come in and say good morning? What the hell is going on?" yelled the other agent.

"There's been a slight misunderstanding that I'm sure you can help us out with. Do you recognize this man?" DiNozzo flourished a photo of the mystery signer. Agent Sommers gave a good look, really trying to place the face.

"I think I saw him once. Yeah, I remember. He was washing windows or something around here. I remember him because he backed his damn truck into my car. Broke a headlight. We exchanged insurance information. Turns out the jerks info was fake. I had to fix the headlight myself." responded the agent, bitterness in his voice.

"Wait, so this was a utility guy? Not a probationary agent?" asked DiNozzo.

"No. I don't have any Probies right now. Anyone can verify that. This guy backed his utility truck into my car. Are we done here?" DiNozzo nodded allowing the older man to leave interrogation. Tony looked at the mirrored window at Lee and Ziva, who were in observation.

"Campfire, bullpen, now," he called.

"Alright, so what I got from the video surveillance is that that this guy has been snooping around the Navy Yard for at least three months, maybe longer. It took me awhile, but I finally spotted the pattern. He comes in almost everyday, under different disguises. I picked up on it because his habit and routes never changed. He was everywhere, but the majority of his time was spent outside the Abby's lab windows. My guess is that he talked Abby, learning her habits. He must have noticed that she came in early to do those diagnostics." explained McGee to the team, showing various freeze frames of their would be kidnapper.

"Alright, so a run down on what we know: Abby was supposed to be in her lab. The guys who snatched her are smart and organized. Somehow, this is in connection to a previous case, specifically in regards to a shiny metal box that the bomb squad blew up. Abby and Ziva put said box back together i.e. making them the intended targets. So team, let's hear thoughts." Tony opened the floor, his tape recorder still rolling.

"Do we know which party is wanting Abby and Ziva snatched? The senders or the receivers?" asked McGee. His worry was beginning to show in his face. The team sympathized with him. They knew he was closest to Abby of those present.

"No, but we'll find out. Tell, me team what is our next course of action?" threw out DiNozzo. They were silent, thinking. Finally Agent Lee's voice came forth.

"Well, shouldn't we track down the original delivery guy? I think Tony said his name was Kirby? We find him, we find out who his boss was." she said. Tony nodded his head.

"Good work Probie." he said.

"Finding him should not be so hard. I believe he is doing time, yes? What were the charges, impersonating a naval officer and transporting illegal goods?" asked Ziva, a smirk on her face. Tony grinned back.

"Yup. McGee, run facial recognition on the guy in the video. While it's going, you and Lee try to find out who made that bomb. I want to know where the pieces came from and who they were sold to. Ziva and I are are going to pay a visit to Fort Leavenworth."

_Thoop_

This time Abby woke up faster. She was more alert and her previous headache had subsided. Warily, she opened her eyes.

"I see you're finally awake Ms. Scuito. That's good. We have plenty to discuss." came her kidnapper's voice. It was the same voice of the young man who had presented himself at her lab in the morning, however, now it was strong, confident.

"Well I have nothing to discuss until I get a trip to the little ladies room, mister." she spat back. She was angry and felt no remorse in showing it. The man just laughed.

"Fine by me. We've got time. Hey, I'll even give you something to eat." After a potty break and some food under close guard Abby was again returned to her seat and her restraints fastened securely.

"I've heard how feisty you are. Can't risk you getting away can we?" he tone was cheerful, patronizing. He was in no rush and was in complete control.

"What do you want with me?" asked Abby again.

"Well, Abby, a lot of evidence passes your hands everyday. Now most of that evidence is related to your NCIS cases. That's all fine with me. But you see, every once in a while, you get evidence that really doesn't concern NCIS at all. That's the evidence that concerns me dear." he replied.

"I don't know what you think about NCIS evidence, but anything that hits my table is NCIS property."

"Oh cut the crap, Abigail Scuito. We both know that that's a lie. We both know that life is not so cut and dry. Now, what I'm interested in is a case. A small, metal briefcase. With an epoxy strip. You remember the one right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." responded Abby, smirking. The kidnapper smiled in return. He walked up to Abby leaning down to look into her face.

"Play your games while you can Abby. Just remember," from inside his suit which he still wore, he pulled a k-bar. He placed the tip of it on Abby's collarbone. "I'm not always going to be so nice."

_Thoop_


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Okay, so this chapter was fun to write. I hope it's fun to read. Please Review!

"We put him up in the private visiting room. He, the guy's kinda rough, if you catch my meaning. Do you want a guard in there with you?"asked the guard leading Tony and Ziva. Ziva's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Rough? I do not quite remember him being that way." she said to the guard, wondering if he had the right guy.

"Well, then he's changed." said the guard, pushing the visiting room door open. Changed was an understatement. Former Petty Officer John Kirby looked like a different man from the one that was interrogated by NCIS months ago. This John Kirby had put on weight and built some muscle. His blond hair was long and pulled back into a pony tail. His beard was unkempt, his eyes hard, giving him a look of insanity.

"Look whose here to visit." he said, his voice mocking. He carried a confidence born of having to fend for himself.

"Hello John. Looks like you've taken to prison life well." answered Tony, his voice sarcastic. Ziva recognized it as his "I'm not budging an inch so do your worst" voice.

"What do you want? You already know everything that happened with Jerry." Kirby was unwilling to rise to the challenge.

"We don't care about Jerry, John. Heh, John and Jerry, that's cute. No, what we care about is your other job. Your job as a transporter. You know, the Hawaiian shirt gig." responded Tony, his voice still falsely cheery.

"Go to hell, DiNozzo. I'm not talking about that. Not without a deal." Kirby radiated defiance.

"Kirby, we don't have time for a deal. Come on. Whoever you're working for got you in here. They don't care about you. Why do you still care about their privacy?" asked DiNozzo.

"I don't give a damn about their privacy. I just care about my life. If I talk to you, I'm screwed. So no, I'm not giving you anything unless I get some help or protection." he replied, sneering, crossing his arms defiantly.

"Last chance Kirby. Help us willing or help us unwillingly. You think your life is miserable now? No. We'll have a word with you here and then, we'll make sure the guard knows about a certain little, what was it Ziva a monkey?" asked Tony scratching his head.

"A marmoset." responded Ziva, slowly walking behind Kirby.

"What, you think that bothers me DiNozzo? The guys in here got nothing, _nothing, _on what my boss could do to me." smirked Kirby.

"Too bad. Ziva, encourage him." Ziva grabbed the man's shoulder, shoving her fingers into the pressure pint behind the collarbone. Using her other hand, she pushed his head to the table and held it there. Kirby yelled and tried to stand. Ziva simply pushed his head harder.

"We are in a rush John. I promise you, I will make you life more miserable than your boss if you do not answer. Now, who did you work for? Who?!" shouted Ziva when he didn't respond. Kirby blubbered, his face turning red.

"I-I didn't know his name, I swear! Please, let go of me." the man's tough boy exterior faded away and he was again the normal, squeamish man that was interrogated months ago.

"Not good enough Kirby. I will give you one more chance. We are in a rush; if you do not answer, I will proceed to break bones. Tell me everything about the man you worked for and the job you did for him." seethed Ziva, her voice quiet and angry. She lifted his head slightly and then slammed it on the table again to emphasize her point. Kirby wailed.

"Alright, alright! I got contacted via email. I don't know how he got it, but he asked if I was interested in making a lot of money. I was, so I took the job. All I had to do was pick up the cases when I was told. I was to leave them in different locations and then watch the case until some guy came to pick it up. I always got the cases from the same person and the same guy picked them up. I was told, never open the case. I never did. The money was good and so I had no reason!" now he was crying. Ziva didn't budge an inch.

"Tell me about the man who picked up the case," asked Ziva. Tony leaned back in his chair impressed. A year ago, Ziva wouldn't have known what to ask.

"He was a small guy, but fit. Probably a runner. He looked athletic. He had short hair, a wiry build. Dark eyes, dark hair. Short beard." he said quickly.

"Good. Now tell me Kirby, if you accidentally lost a package, who would be angrier? The person sending the package or the person receiving the package?" Kirby paused, obviously thinking. Ziva applied a tad bit more pressure to his head.

"Hey, hey! I'm thinking, alright! I'm not stalling. It would be the person sending the case, my boss. The sender gets the stuff and pays for its transportation. He gets triple what it costs him to transport. If the case goes missing or gets into the wrong person's hands, then the sender's information, their position is compromised. We're screwed if we mess up a delivery. That's all I know, I swear to God. Please, let me go." Satisfied, Ziva let him up. He rubbed his head where it'd been against the table.

"Last question Kirby, is this your guy?" Tony pushed an image of the kidnapper forward to Kirby. Tony had taken the liberty of drawing in a beard.

"Yeah, that's the guy. Are we done?" Kirby asked, fearful. Ziva patted his shoulder. He jumped.

"Yes, that's all." she said, a falsely sweet smile on her face.

"Catch ya later Kirby," said DiNozzo, opening the door for Ziva.

McGee let out a sigh of frustration. He and Lee were running down any leads they garnered from the bomb pieces. He'd taken a moment to check the facial recognition software, and as he had the first three times he checked, it had turned up nothing. Being in Labby without Abby made McGee feel sick and determined. He tried not to think of what was happening to her. Agent Lee looked up from the plastic casing she was analyzing.

"We'll find him McGee." she said, trying to sound encouraging.

"It's not him I'm concerned about, it's Abby. Abby is who I want to find." he snapped back, putting his head in his hand. After a moment, he looked up, feeling guilty.

"Look, I'm sorry Lee, it's just that...I, I care about Abby. A lot. We went out for a while, back when I joined the team. We broke after a while, but I never really stopped caring about her, you know? She's my best friend. She gets me when other people don't. Nothing scares me more than losing her." he said, his voice sounding apologetic and a tad thick.

"It's okay McGee. I understand. She'd your friend. You want to help your friend. You're doing the best you can." she said smiling. McGee smiled back and came back to the work counter.

"McGee. I, I think I have a partial print." said Lee excitedly. McGee rushed to her side. After a few minutes, a print was lifted and being run through AFIS.

"Excellent, Lee." said McGee, giving the younger agent a wide smile.

"What's excellent, Probies?" said DiNozzo, striding into forensics. Ziva was just behind him.

"We lifted a print. Uh, no luck on the materials. Sorry, Tony. We just don't know how to work Abby's machines. We can't find out who made them." responded Lee.

"Well, keep running the print and the facial. We need to put out a BOLO. Turns out our kidnapper either works for the case sender or is the case sender. Kirby gave us a positive ID. Lee, get on it. Include the still McGee pulled from the security monitors. McGee, work on a composite of the girl who tased you. I know it's a long shot; I don't care. The sender is bound to be pissed and that girl could be the key to finding him. Ziva...Ziva, come with me."

The team broke up silently. Ziva looked at Tony curiously as they rode the elevator downward.

"What is bothering you DiNozzo?" she asked as they walked out. Tony let out a long sigh as they walked.

"It's almost elevern o clock at night, Abby's missing, and we're grasping at straws. No demands have been made and so we are in the dark. Oh, yeah, you're their next target, whoever they are." Ziva ignored her confusion at the lack of straws in the vicinity.

"Tony, you are going all you can. All _we_ can. This is not a burden for you to shoulder alone." The two continued their slow walk, approaching the usual coffee shop where Gibbs and now DiNozzo bought his coffee.

"Yeah, well it doesn't feel that way. Gibbs has been gone for what, two weeks? And my first big case since he's gone is Abby being kidnapped. God, I feel like a probie again. Like every move I'm making is the wrong one. Why'd Gibbs have to make it look so easy?" he said, opening the coffee shop door for Ziva.

"Because that is what leaders do Tony. They hide their insecurities; they show confidence so that their team has confidence. Tony, you are a good leader, regardless of what you might think. Your feelings are normal." Tony just nodded. After ordering coffee, the two opted for a table in a secluded corner.

"You know Tony, I have no doubt that we will find Abby. But I do have a question for you. Why have we not tried finding out what is in the case or how it could be connected with Abby's disappearance?"

Tony sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I have tried. ATF is stonewalling me. Unless I can provide some substantial evidence that it connects to our case, meaning a confession of some sort, then they're a no go." Ziva remained silent, sipping her coffee. After awhile, Tony's phone rang.

"DiNozzo, here," answered the team leader.

"_Hey Tony. I'm done with the composite. I took the liberty to send it out."_

"Good work McGee. Look, I think since we're waiting for the computers to do their thing, we need to catch some sleep." responded Tony.

"_Yeah. Tony, I'm gonna stick around here. Abby has a futon I'll use. That way, you know, as soon as we know something..." _said McGee, his voice trailing off.

"I got it McGee. As soon as something pops up, you call me. We'll be at NCIS in a flash. And McGee. We're going to find her."

"_Yeah Tony. Thanks. I'll call you." _the phone clicked off.

"McGee finished his composite and sent out a BOLO. I sent him and Lee to rest. There's nothing we can do but wait for the computers to do their stuff." Ziva nodded standing to leave.

"Do you need to go to your place to pick up clothes?" he asked casually. Ziva groaned.

"Why do we not just stay at my apartment," she asked hopefully. Tony just smiled.

"No can do. I don't know your apartment, therefore making it indefensible. You're coming home with me."

"Just what I wanted," muttered Ziva sarcastically.

"Haha. Do you need anything?" asked Tony with a sigh. Ziva shook her head.

"I have a bag in my car." Tony smiled with relief. The stress of the day was wearing down on him.

_Thoop_


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Hey guys. First of all, thanks for the reviews/support for this story. It really does make it worth while to write. Just as a heads up, this chapter has some of the afore mentioned "language", so beware. Also, I have the rest of this story written out, though I don't think I'm satisfied with the ending, so I may revamp it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

"Abby, it's late sweetie. The sun went down and guess what? I'm cranky. The sun's gone down and you're obviously not bored of being here. So, I'll come out and say it: What was in the silver case that the bomb squad blew to bits?" the man's voice was cheery, which chilled Abby more than anything else. She'd been left alone for several hours. Her internal clock knew it was getting late and without her usual flow of Caf Pow, she was getting sleepy. Just as she was about to doze off, her pretend probie came in.

"I don't know what you're talking about." she responded defiantly. The man kept pacing the room, using his k-bar to clean under his finger nails.

"You know Abby, lying does not become you. Not at all. Now, I need to know, what was in the case and where are the remains?" the man, now behind Abby's chair, leaned over her, his head next to hers. Abby let her most defiant self radiate through her fear.

"I told you that I wasn't going to talk. I think I'll stick to that. You don't like it? Suck it up." Abby was scared, but not willing to budge an inch. Truth be told, she didn't know what was in the box. She and Ziva had done their best to reconstruct it, but the internal evidence was totally destroyed. They handed the remains over to ATF.

The man, John, grabbed the back of Abby's neck, causing her to jump.

"Your choice Abby. I'll be back in two hours. Maybe you'll want to talked then." He gave the back of her neck a forceful squeeze and then left the room.

_Thoop_

"Want to watch a movie?" asked Tony as they walked into his apartment. The apartment was small but comfortable. He had two rooms at the end of a short hallway and a kitchen and family room separated by a half wall. The bathroom was in between the two rooms at the end of the hall. In his family room, a 42 inch television was framed by surround sound speakers and a plethora of DVDs.

"I thought the idea was to get some rest?" placing her bag next to the couch. Tony flopped down, remote in hand, as the television illuminated into life.

"Yeah, technically. But you know, McGee's not gonna get much rest. You know he's mad upset about Abby. I mean, he's never gotten over her. So, I feel bad. And who knows, a movie might help us unwind." responded Tony, turning his head to look at Ziva. She sat next to him; casually he threw his arm over her shoulders.

"Then, out of sympathy for McGee, we will watch a movie." she responded with a smile. Tony turned to a movie channel. It didn't matter what movie was one, because in fifteen minutes, both he and Ziva were asleep.

Tony's dreams were strange. They were distorted and came in flashes.

_First there was a bright flash, an explosion. Then Gibbs' basement. For a brief moment there was someone who could have been Gibbs, but the hair was long, features distorted. Then there was Ziva, her back to Tony, running, running away. Then there was Jenny's office. It glowed red and orange, the director was smiling, but the air around her grew dark. Her face changed. She was sad, then angry. She looked wasted away, her face contorted, her eyes focused, never wavering on something in both the past and the future. Suddenly, Tony was in a hospital, he was relaxed, at ease. He was talking to someone, a woman. Her face had no details, but it didn't seem to matter. But then, the dream turned nightmarish. Tony had no badge, no gun. He was two people, one defenseless, carefree, the other desperate, alert, armed. Then there was a car. His car, but not his car. It was moving away from him, growing distant, until suddenly, the fierce white light of an explosion._

He woke up with a gasp, his heart racing. He looked around. The television was going, the volume low. Ziva was curled into his side, her head on his chest. The clock read _12:15. _Ziva stirred.

"Are you alright?" she asked, sleep heavy in her voice. She shifted to a sitting position, leaving Tony' side cold.

"Yeah. Strange dream, that's all. Sorry I woke you." he responded, stretching his arms. Ziva ran a hand through her wavy hair.

"It is fine. Perhaps we should move somewhere more comfortable?" she asked, standing to her feet.

"I can take the couch, you know, if you want the bed." he ventured, still sitting. Ziva gave him a "are you joking?" Look.

"Tony, if anyone should take the couch it should be me as the guest. I will not run you out of your own bed." she responded stubbornly.

"Look Ziva-" Tony voice cut off at the sound of a window breaking. There were several flashes of light and suddenly smoke began to fill the room.

"Flash Bang!" shouted Ziva, moving closer to Tony while retrieving the knife from her belt. Tony rose to his feet, his heart hammering. A split second later, the apartment door blew off its hinges. Tony and Ziva instinctively ducked, but didn't have time to assess the situation. Five figures, all in black with night vision goggles, bullet proof vests and handguns came in.

"Grab the girl!" shouted one of them. "The girl" in question lunged out, knife in hand. The man moved with a yell. Ziva had sliced open his arm. Not giving them a chance to recover, she lashed out again, with kicks and punches accented with her knife. However, one of the men, a huge fellow caught the fist with the knife and pried it from her fingers. She continued to resist until the butt of a gun came crashing onto her head, making her world go black. The big man tossed Ziva over his shoulder, moving towards the exit.

Tony, also fighting through the men, saw his partner go down. His motions became more frantic.

"Ziva, no!" shouted Tony, lunging after her. He used his elbow to knock one of the guys on the side of the head, trying frantically to reach Ziva over his family room floor that had never before seemed so wide.

He never got the chance.

Just as he was about to lunge again a kick caught him in the stomach and then he heard a pop and a crackle a breath before he felt a pinch in his chest and volts of electricity being shot through his body. He went down at once, yelling in pain. He'd been tased before, but wasn't fond of the experience. His attacker squeezed the trigger twice, sending shock waves of electricity and pain through Tony's body. The Special Agent could do nothing as he fought for consciousness. Finally the pain stopped.

All the was left was a barely coherent, gasping Tony DiNozzo with the last, smoky effects of the flash bang.

The next thing Tony was aware of was a voice and hands shaking his aching body.

"Tony, can you hear me?" finally, the worried voice of Timothy McGee came into focus.

"McGee," rasped Tony. McGee helped pull the team leader into a sitting position against the wall.

"Tony what happened? Where's Ziva?" he asked, his face contorted with worry, his voice urgent.

"They came through the front door. There was a flash bang. They tased me and...and took Ziva." he squinted his eyes to look at the clock. _1:30 AM._

"_Shit. _Dammit, McGee, they've had her for an hour. A whole hour." Tony felt terrible. Not only could he not protect his partner, but he'd been injured in the process.

"McGee, why are you here?" he asked after a moment.

"We got a hit on AFIS. Guy's name is Joe Farrow. He's got a record, a string of robberies and assaults. Ran with a gang when he was a kid. He was arrested for accessory to murder, but released on a technicality. He's typical muscle. But lucky for us, there's a BOLO already out for him. Seems he roughed up a guy at a gas station yesterday. He was driving a black SUV. I tried to call you, but when you didn't answer I came over." Tony, rubbed his eyes, thinking.

"McGee, pull security footage from the gas station. I don't care who you have to wake up. Get the make and model of the SUV, then call Jenny. Get her to call in favors with FBI and Metro. We're gonna need help looking for the thing. Call Lee. I want a warrant for this guy's arrest in connection with kidnapping and bomb making." McGee nodded then reached down and pulled Tony to his feet.

"What are you gonna do, Tony?" McGee asked. Tony shook his head, trying to clear his headache.

"Think," said the team leader, stumbling away from McGee and out of his apartment. McGee looked on for a moment, then pulled out his cell phone.

_Thoop_

Ziva stifled a groan as she woke up. She moved slightly, only to find the motion rewarded with a fist to the back. She stifled another groan, this one of fresh pain. At least now she was fully awake.

"Don't even think about moving missy. You're lucky we don't knife you here and now, bitch." Ziva realized that they were in a moving vehicle and that she was on her side. Her hands were bound with what appeared to be her own hand cuffs in front of her. Her legs were bound with what felt like a thin, strong rope. She was gagged and blind folded. Before a further assessment could be made, the vehicle stopped. She heard what was a trunk hatch release and was pulled out of what she thought might be an SUV. The rope around her legs was cut and her blind fold removed. The other change was the feeling of a gun at the base of her neck.

"Walk," snarled the voice from before, the man who struck her. Praying that she'd made her guard angry enough to ignore her hands, she began to subtly pull at the knot of a bracelet on her wrist. It was a simple thing, the bracelet: a bit of long metal attached to a cord. Her captor didn't notice but rather forced her to walk into what seemed like an abandoned, one floor thrift store. Ziva didn't recognize it and didn't dare turn her head to find out where she was.

Abby jumped when the door to her room slammed open. The door was behind her and so who ever entered just then remained a mystery.

Ziva, however, recognized Abby's back instantly. Seeing an opportunity, she took it. She spun sharply, her hands up. They knocked the gun out of her captor's hand, catching him unawares. He yelled in surprise, but didn't have the opportunity to do anything else because Ziva's hands, both fisted, crashed into his face sending him backwards with a shout, blood pouring from his freshly broken nose. Talking the advantage of seconds, Ziva turned towards Abby's chair, honing in on Abby's bound hands.

However, before she took more than a step, she was tackled from behind, essentially into Abby's chair. While the force of the blow winded her, she could not have been more grateful for the proximity to the chair and her captor being blinded by blood. Quickly, before she lost the opportunity, she pushed the undone bracelet into Abby's hands.

That was when the gunshot rang out.

Everyone froze as though stunned. A voice from the doorway spoke his voice cold and measured.

"Miss David, the next bullet goes into your skull if you persist with your foolishness. Mr. Farrow, get off your ass and let Ed get her." Ed, as it turned out, was the huge man who'd originally knocked both Abby and Ziva out. He hauled Ziva to her her feet by the back or her jacket. He pulled her around in front of Abby, tossing her into an old office chair. He unlocked the hand cuffs, leaving them attached to one wrist. He attached the other cuff to the chair arm. He produced another set of handcuffs and mimicked his actions with her other wrist. Then using the same, thin, tough rope that had been on her legs, fastened both wrists down.

All the while Abby watched, disbelieving. She'd heard the man, John Straight, her only companion throughout the day, say "Miss David" but had hoped it didn't mean what it turned out to. Now she and Ziva were stuck in this hell hole. Abby felt more worried about John's endgame.

"Joe go get your nose looked at. Ed, stand outside the door." Ed moved without question. Joe threw one last dirty look at Ziva before stalking out as well.

"Ah, at last be can get down to business. Let me get that out of the way." the man pulled the gag out of Ziva's mouth, letting it fall around her neck.

"Let's start, shall we? You're Ziva David. I believe you know Abby. I'm John Straight." he started, his voice cheerfully condescending again.

"Liar," said Ziva, her voice low. "John" paused, looking at her. His eyes asked the question.

"Your name is not John Straight," continued Ziva, "You do not say it with conviction. The conviction born of owning a name since birth. You do not believe for a second that you are John Straight." "John" just smiled. _This will be a fun one to break._ He thought to himself.

"You're very good Ms. David. But then, I expect no less. Now, Abby: What was in the silver case?" he asked again. Abby looked at him fearfully, no longer sure how to answer. Finally she spoke.

"I told you, I don't know what you're talking about," she said, failing to inflect the previous conviction into her voice. John smiled cruelly; then, he turned, and using the momentum from his turn, hammered Ziva in the stomach with a fist. The liaison officer grunted in pain, winded. Abby looked stunned for a moment before she yelled at the man.

"What are you doing?" she asked. The question might have been absurd, but felt logical in her mind. She almost couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"These are the new rules: I ask you a question. I don't like the answer, I take it out on your friend here. Then in a little, I let you all simmer and maybe you can have a turn." he said, a humorless smile on his face.

"Abby, do not say anything." said Ziva, tensing for the backhand that made her cheek burn as though on fire.

"Uh-uh, Ms. David. You don't speak unless you're spoken to." he said, his voice sounding like that of a scolding parent. Ziva glared at him.

"First of all, it is officer. Second, it is _Dah-veed. _Third, you hit like a child." she spat, ignoring his warning to stay silent. The punch to her eye hurt, as she knew it would. Still, she kept up her facade of strength and indifference.

"The phrase is hit like a girl. But this good. You're tough. Let's see how long you can hold out. Abby, do you remember the question or do I need to rephrase?" he asked, his previous anger seemingly evaporated.

Abby looked at Ziva, ignoring John momentarily. Ziva stared straight back at her, her eyes fierce. They seemed to say _Don't say a word. I can handle this._ Abby, hating herself, and praying that Ziva was right, looked at John.

"I'm sorry, my memory is fuzzy." she replied, her voice emotionless, tight in her throat. She wanted nothing more than to scream out lies, truths, obscenities: to save Ziva from the monster. But she couldn't. The look in Ziva's eyes was so sure that she had to trust her friend.

John almost gasped in disbelief. Deciding to play along, making good on his part, he punched Ziva again. This time, striking her high on the ribs with middle knuckles. The pain was much more acute. Ziva couldn't help but wince in pain, taking shallow breaths as the pain radiated.

"Abby, again?" he asked. When Abby remained silent, he struck Ziva again, this time shattering her nose. Again, he questioned Abby. Again, she stayed silent. Over and over, he questioned, Abby remained silent, and he hit Ziva. He alternated strikes with cutting with his K-Bar, making cuts on Ziva's arms and legs. The cuts started shallow, but got progressively deeper as John grew angrier. Finally, when John used the butt of the K bar to strike Ziva's hand, drawing out a shout of pain as bones broke, Abby had had enough. Tears streaming, she shouted at John.

"Please, just stop, leave her alone! Please, you don't have to do this. Just leave her alone." she yelled, not really sure of all else she was saying. John looked at her, the contempt in his eyes scalding.

"Now you're ready to talk, huh? Are finally fucking ready to talk?! Huh?!" John was beside himself, angry that getting Abby to speak was taking so long. He advanced on Abby.

"John, stop. Do not touch her." Despite the thorough beating she'd received, Ziva's voice was strong, commanding attention. John turned to look at her, refusing to believe that she was challenging his authority in the situation, again. He swung the fist clutching the k bar at her face, the blow so powerful it split her eyebrow and made Ziva's head spin. She had to fight to stay conscious.

"Are you serious David? You want some more of this?" he asked, baffled by the young woman in front of him. Ziva fought to keep her voice calm, willing him to ignore abby for a moment.

"Look, we will tell you what we want. But give some time to...calm down. Give us a chance to remember everything you want to know about the box. You are a man of your word. Give us that chance to stew." Her voice was calm, not demanding. John thought about it, nodding his head. He wiped his blade clean on her shoulder, sheathing it at his belt.

"Fair is fair, David. Tell you what. I'm hungry. You have an hour to remember every last thing about that box. Then I'll be back. And by the way, the term was simmer." his congenial voice was back, albeit more weary. He strode out of the room whistling. When clanged shut and locked, Ziva let out a suppressed groan of pain. She hurt all over. Abby was still crying.

"Ziva, oh my God. Why didn't you let me tell him that we don't know, that we couldn't figure it out? We turned the mess over to ATF after five hours of getting nowhere. Now you're all hurt and beat up because of me." Abby was distraught over her friend's pain, over the fact she was responsible. Ziva took a deep breath, wincing as her side issued a sharp stab of pain.

"Abby, listen to me: You did the right thing. Do you understand me? The right thing. We need him to think that we are valuable. If we tell him the truth, he will have no use for us and put a bullet in both our heads. If we lie he will still kill us. We pretend to know something important so that we can stay alive until Tony and McGee get here. Besides, what would McGee say if I let anything happen to you?" Abby gave Ziva a watery smile.

"Now, do you have that piece of metal I gave you?" Abby was stunned by Ziva's appearance and so she'd not yet given any thought to the object in her hand. She felt the metal between her fingers. She nodded.

"Good. There is a center part that can pop out. It is a lock pick." Abby concentrated on the small metal piece, pulling the pick out with numb fingers. As quickly as she dared, Abby employed her rusty lock picking ability on her cuffs. Finally, in what seemed decades, there was a click, sounding loud in their quiet room. Hurriedly, she brought her arms forward and began to undo the rope at her ankles. It was somewhat difficult, but she did indeed succeed. Hurriedly, she went to Ziva's side, undoing the cuffs. Unable to stop herself, Ziva leaned forward in her chair, trying and failing to stifle small sounds of pain. Abby caught her, holding her as Ziva's knees reached the floor. She began to shake slightly, early signs of shock beginning to intrude. With an act of sheer will, Ziva forced her control over her body, quelling the tremor and the accompanying nausea.

"He really hurt you, Ziva," whispered Abby, tears filling her eyes again. Ziva managed a small smile.

"I will be okay Abby. Help me up. I have a plan."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Hey there. So first of all, I apologize for the delayed (very delayed...) update. See, I have this story on a flashdrive that I lost but then I found. And so now that AP exams are through with I'm back to updating. I've decided not to change the ending to this story. If anyone is interested in a sequel, let me know and I'll see what I can do. There should be like, two chapters after this one?

Anyway, please enjoy. All comments are welcome.

_Thoop_

Joe Farrow muttered to himself darkly as he examined his face in the grimy mirror. Having a short supply of medical care products at their hide out, drove about ten miles away to the closet gas station. The station was miserable. It seemed that the musty grime was the only thing keeping the place up. The store was poorly stalked and the cashier seemed as though he could care less. He was looking at a computer behind the desk when Joe walked in. He looked up once and then back down, ignoring the angry looking man with a nose bleed. _Probably watching porn, _thought Joe with disgust as he grabbed what little medical supplies he could and stalked into the bathroom.

The bathroom was atrocious, home to several cockroaches that scurried when Joe flicked on the crappy, flickering florescent. The floor was sticky and the toilet didn't seem to work, emitting a foul odor that seemed permanent.

Ignoring his disgust, Joe set to work on his nose. Tears leaked from his eyes as he reset it. Cleaning up his face and looking in the mirror, his dark thoughts came.

_Why the fuck am I running with that asshole? I didn't go to college to be muscling for thugs. But that's all I am apparently. Trash when I was a kid and trash as an adult. I'm sick of this shit. I didn't sign up to make bombs. All that college chemistry for what? To be making explosives?_

Joseph Farrow had made a valiant attempt to straighten out his life. Sure, he ran with a bad crowd as a kid, but he got his act together. He graduated from a decent college with a bachelor in Chemistry. But life got hard again. He couldn't find a job; people wouldn't hire the former gang banger. So, he embraced the gang banger side. Eventually, he crossed paths with Seymour Johnson, or "John Straight". Originally, it had been simple: protect Seymour as goods were transferred from point A to point B. Now, the whole kidnapping business was thrown in. It made Joe sick, that work. He wanted badly to bail. But, there was no real life for him apart from work with Seymour. He would always be gang muscle and nothing could change that.

Little known to Joe, however, the disinterested cashier was not engaging in pornographic entertainment. He was actually checking an advisory sent out to all gas stations. It warned about a violent man driving a dark SUV. As soon as he'd looked at the bloody nosed man, he knew this was who the cops wanted. He phoned it in immediately, exiting his store, fearful of what would happen when the cops showed.

Joe, finally satisfied that his nose had stopped bleeding, exited the restroom. He looked towards the cashier, finding the register empty. He took a moment to glance at the computer screen. A red line was flashing wanted. His heart sunk at the picture of his SUV and the composite sketch of him.

Suddenly scared, he bolted out the front door, throwing it open. He ran into a parking lot surrounded by police and FBI all shouting.

"Freeze!"

"Hands in the air!"

"Freeze!"

"NCIS, stop!"

"Federal Agents, don't move!"

"FBI, freeze!"

"Hands in the air!"

Caught unaware, Joe froze, hands shooting up. Two guys walked up to him, one a Hoover, the other the man he didn't recognize, an NCIS jacket on his body. The FBI agent hung back, but the NCIS one didn't. He grabbed Joe by collar of his jacket, knocking his feet from under him.

Joe went down with a yell. The NCIS agent still held him, pushing him down into the concrete.

"Where are they?" snarled an angry Timothy McGee. Joe, shaking with fear and relief from being found out, sputtered.

"N-not here man. Up the road about ten miles. Take the beaten trail to the right. The main road is wired with explosives. They'll blow your tires."

"How do I know the back road isn't wired?" asked Tim, still angry. He'd never felt so enraged before. He'd never had a reason to.

"Look, I laid the wires down myself. I planted the bomb in NCIS. I'm not lying to you. I-I don't want anything else to do with this. I didn't mean to get caught up in it all. Ten miles up the road, beaten trail to the right. It'll take you to a deserted thrift store. I swear, that's the truth. The guy you want is Seymour Johnson. He's the one, I swear." Tim got to his feet, leaving Joe on the ground, stalking away.

"He's all yours Fornell. I expect him back at NCIS." stated Tim, passing Tobias Fornell on the way to the car where DiNozzo waited.

"Oh, my pleasure McGee."


End file.
